Amalgatech Expo: Chapter 2
Snack Break

WARNING: The following may make you hungry. Amalgatech is not responsible for any gained insight, desires or weight brought about by the consumption of it's product.



It was barely 2:00, and already the first Amalgatech public convention had pulled the collective attention of almost everyone at the exposition. Anyone who still remained outdoors among the Midway attractions and sales pavilions available to attendees had already noticed an oddly dwindling population as more and more of their number were attracted to the large showroom and the massive red balloon drifting high above it. People filed through the doors in droves. And very few seemed to be leaving any time soon.

-----------------------------------------

Aisha double checked her map. Despite the rather clearly marked out coloured blocks that notated areas of interest at the sprawling convention, she still couldn't seem to find the one location that held her focus.

"Food Court.....Food Court......Food Court....." She murmured, scanning the paper in her hands.

"Maybe they don't have one" Therese replied as she finished her bottled water, smacking her still-dry lips. It was a hot one out today, and the air conditioning that wafted through the pavilion was not enough to combat her dehydration.

"This place is huge" Aisha rolled her eyes "They've got showrooms and bathrooms, a damn autoshow near the western corner, some kind of modelling runway over there, right next to the statue gallery, and  I just heard someone mentioning that they're setting up balloon rides out front! At some point someone is going to have to FEED all these people"
It never seemed to fail, Therese mused. No matter where you took Aisha or what was on display when you got there, the first thing she ended up asking was where the food was. It showed on her somewhat prodigious frame.  A thin gap of dark brown skin perpetually oozed out between her pants and shirt, no matter how much she tugged at both garments.
"C'mon Therese." Aisha wrapped an arm around her friend "Once we can find a place to eat and sit down, you can finally cool off. I'll getcha some water"
"How about this?" Therese pointed at a small purple circle on the building map. It was marked "Culinary Showcase"
"Sounds like a lead. Watson" Aisha nodded. "Onwards!"

Navigating the thick crowds was a two person job.  Aisha kept her eyes fixed on the map in her hands, while Therese provided immediate navigation, steering her friend around other attendants and noting the surroundings. Her attention wandered as she took in a curtain backed staging area that looked like the gallery they had been discussing. She could see a long row of statues, composed of stone, metal, even one that looked like glass or crystal. They all were full figures,  all artistic nudes, and all human. Well...MOSTLY human, Therese  noted as she spotted the occasional tail winding around the legs of a few pieces. They all seemed to be made by the same artist, or at least, in the same style. Whoever this sculptor was, they were certainly as industrious as they were talented. The statues held a variety of poses. Some were classical and heroic, showcasing bulging muscles or toned limbs. Others carried an active, almost surprised look about them. Others still looked down right lewd. Therese gawked at one marble piece that depicted a woman groping her own sizable chest with one hand, while the other probed her own nether regions with such fervour that Therese swore that she could see it's hand moving ever so slightly.
Tearing her eyes away from the borderline pornographic display, Therese glanced over at a man that, for a second, she almost mistook for another installation. He looked as though he was wearing only a towel around his waist and seemed preoccupied only with flexing his muscles, while three people dressed like spa technicians buzzed around him, checking on his physique. One tapped him on the shoulder and led him through the curtain.
Maybe he was modelling?

The speculating crowds and odd vendor stands eventually gave way to a populated clearing, marked on the floor by a large circle of black linoleum. Bizarre, intricate looking machines of chrome and plastic filled the space. Some looked like odd extensions of standard kitchen appliances such as blenders or whisking machines, while others looked like the kind of contraption you would only use to catch an elusive roadrunner. Aisha finally noticed what looked like a refreshment table, loaded with simple snacks and a few cups of punch. Flocking to the humble repast, she stayed relatively unaware as a musical chime sounded out in the distance. Apparently something was about to start.

Behind a nearby set of curtains, a ruffled-looking older man in a lab coat glanced over to his colleague, coughing into a handkerchief before he spoke.
“never easy to find volunteers at these kinds of events.” he rasped.
“Just because you're about as cuddly as broken glass doesn't mean coercion is an unattainable concept” the woman speaking to him replied “People like what's new, and we're offering them something that most of them have never seen before. We'll see how St. Clair does. One way or another, this will provide plenty of information for the following decades.”
The scientist peered outwards at the crowd “It's a tall order, June” he muttered “Asking a person to stop...well, being a person”
'It's not a sacrifice” June responded. She gestured at the crowd, the movement sending a ripple through the sequined-blue dress she was wrapped in “It's a transition. You humans are SO possessive of your sapience. Tell me Moth, what's so great about being human anyways?”
“I haven't been human in a VERY long time” Doctor Quentin Moth sighed, with a hint of a sardonic chuckle “Can't say I miss it”
“Then stop worrying” The lady in blue smiled, clapping him on the shoulder with a powerful right hand “And enjoy the show”

************************************

“What do you suppose this does?” Therese asked, chewing on a biscuit as she looked over a coiling mechanism composed of pipes and open channels. It looked like something to drop a marble into. Aisha would have stayed alongside her friend, but the brief respite of fruit punch had done little to satiate her accumulated thirst, which was now settling on top of her like a very dry ton of bricks. She glanced nervously over the crowd, searching the nearby wall for a water fountain and Aisha leaned further over the odd machine.

A hefty blonde wove her way through the crowd, her long, cow-like tail wagging through the air behind her. A few heads turned at her very sparing wardrobe, which consisted of an apron, a chef's hat and a very short pair of shorts that threatened to disappear between her voluptuous buttocks, but for most of them, there were weirder things to see today. She tapped her wooden cooking spoon against a bare thigh as she hummed to herself amidst the cacophony around her.
"Bum bum BUMbum bum bum" She sounded out, eyes scanning the room.
"Ooooh, Honey honey...." She sidled towards the bakery displays.
"You are my candy girl" She continued to sing under her breath as she ogled the wide backside of a girl bending over a large pastry machine.
"and you got me....wanting....you....." The chefess licked her lips and covertly pointed her spoon in the other woman's direction.
The tiniest of sparks crackled from the tip of the utensil, and almost simultaneously, the clasp of the girl's bracelet flew open with a tiny snap of energy, causing the bangle to fall cleanly off of her wrist and into the machine she was inspecting, clattering off the metal components on the way down.

"Dammit!" Aisha cursed as she attempted to peer into the obscure workings of the device.
"Problem?" A blonde haired woman in an apron and little else inquired .
"Yeah" Aisha swiveled in place "My-" She paused, taking in the woman's appearance. Her eyes deflected off of her stubby horns and down into the deep valley of cleavage mashed together by the straps of her apron.
"Eh....my bracelet?" She pointed towards her empty wrist.

“Oh but of course!” The plump cheffess replied “I'm ALWAYS losing things inside of my machinery. Jewelry, watches, reciepts....interns...” She trailed off. Circling the odd device, Yvette finally popped open what at least appeared to be a large maintenance hatch in the side of the large cylinder that provided the bulk of the machine in question.
“It's probably in there” She said truthfully “Just root around a bit, at your pleasure”

Aisha peered into the inner workings of the machine and the faint light glinting off the smooth metallic gears and rollers. She swore she could see a faint glimmer of gold from her dropped bracelet. Bracing herself, the young girl reached inside, her arm disappearing into the device's chamber up to her shoulder.

----------------------------------------------------------

In all of the excitement, Therese had wandered off, oblivious to her friend's diatribes. A sense of parched desperation usually reserved for French Legionaries had led her in between stalls, where she wasn't entirely sure she should be, but was hoping she could find a snack table or water cooler. The subtle sound of trickling liquids caught her ear, instigating a quest to it's source. Finally ducking between the aisles, she snuck into the back room of a kiosk and threw back a long black curtain to reveal....well.

“Oh!...Ah....I am so sorry!” Therese stammered to the seated woman that she had just barged in on. The lady looked up from the small portable game system that she had been occupied with and gave a brief smile.
“S'fine. You here to fix the tubes?”
“The....tubes?” Therese mumbled, tying to avoid looking directly at the bloated figure in front of her.
She was all boobs. If there was a torso and legs situated somewhere behind or underneath the quartet of huge, gravid breasts that filled the small space that the woman occupied, Therese certainly had no evidence that they were there. All but one of her titanic, exercise-ball sized mammaries was capped with a stiff pink nipple, fitted with a narrow rubber sleeve that ran into a series of clear tubes that criss-crossed overhead. The outlier dangled free, dribbling a creamy fluid from it's tip into a small bucket by her feet.

“I'm all jammed up” she said, massaging her top pair of breasts as she spoke. “Had to start bleeding some off just so I could breathe”

“I-um” Therese still fought for words. As she tore her eyes off of the other girl's chest, she noted that her skin was unnaturally pale and marked with large patches of dark brown skin. A pair of small horns peeked out from under her red head of hair.
“I mean” She rushed “I'm not here to fix anything, I just got lost and-”

“Hey, relax!” The decidedly cow-like woman proclaimed as a long, bovine tail swished into view behind her. “No big deal! I think one of the promoters said something about nothing being off limits. Anyways, you can still help me out...” She reached down to her lower right breast, half-burying he face in her own cleavage as she grabbed at it. The mass of flesh let out a squirt of milk at this sudden manipulation, responding to the cowgirl's hand as she pointed it towards her intruder.
“Thirsty?” she offered.

Therese felt the ghost of a polite declination conjuring itself somewhere within the sensible part of her mind, but it quickly dried up as the engorged teat let out another spurt of milk. She slowly fell to her knees, telling herself that she might as well try a taste. Her questing lips finally met the turgid flesh of the tantalizing nipple and her tongue pressed against it. Only the briefest of pressure was required before her dry mouth was filled with quenching, cool milk.

The dairy producer moaned in satisfaction as Therese began to drink deeply.

**********************************

There was a sudden CLUNK and Aisha felt a pair of  curved metal rollers clamp around her wrist, slowly beginning to turn and pull her into the machine.
“Um” She muttered with a sense of rising panic.

“Well what do you know, it's time for a presentation!” Yvette chimed, almost in perfect synchronicity with a flicker of the lights as the various machines all hummed into active life around her.

Aisha felt a soft warmth creep over her fingers as they were pushed into a smooth tube. She let out a yelp as her hand hit a bend in the pipe, then continued to follow, flowing at an unnatural curve. It was as though her bones were no longer a factor as her arm was pushed along the twisting plumbing like rubber through a tube.

“Something's happening!” the trapped woman exclaimed, thrashing slightly from within the machine. “I think I'm stuck!”

“Oh!” Yvette exclaimed with feigned innocence “Did your sleeve get caught? Let me help you with that”

She offered a fleeting wink to the gathering crowd and drew out her long wooden spoon. Aisha felt a slight tingle run across her spine as the cooking utensil traced along it's length. The cheffess's tail swayed in anticipation as she grabbed the girl's shirt and pants by the belt line and gave both garments a hearty tug. They both came away like a sheet off a table, taking her skivvies with them.
“Darn” Yvette tisked in mock indignation. “Something else must be jammed in there”

“Did...did it just get a lot chillier?” Aisha asked, seemingly unaware of her bare backside flashing the assembled crowd. There was a brief flutter of chuckles from a few who were enjoying the show, or thought it was all part of some act.

As Aisha was drawn even further into the machine, she could feel the twisting mass of her arm get pinched by another smooth pair of rollers, and squeezed to the point that she could almost swear that her hand had been severed. She tried to panic at this revelation. She had just been dismembered! But there was no rush of pain, or even numbness in the  separated limb. She could still feel it passing deeper into the machine, even twitch it slightly.
“Is there a way I could...get out?” she asked, even as she felt her shoulder get pulled into the churning gears of the device.
“Oh, not to worry” Yvette reassured, patting the woman's jiggling butt. “You'll soon start coming out the other end.”
The well-fed troll bent over a small console attached to the humming mechanism. A large metal vat that the machine was poised over rumbled, before quickly filling with smoking, amber liquid. The vat itself was fitted with an odd, spiralling wire track, like the inside of a sea shell.

“Now, as our brave volunteer goes about her journey, I would like to start taking a few questions!” the chefess  turned to the crowd. “My name is Yvette St. Cloud, Head Chef of Amalgatech and it's subsidiaries, and I'm sure everyone is just bursting with curiousity”

“What...” one of the guys in the front row asked “What exactly is happening to her?”
“Well” Yvette patted the rumbling device “The precise process that goes on between here” she touched a narrow rubber spout at one end “and here” she poked Therese in the butt again. “Is strictly confidential. But I can clarify that it is a mastercrafted blend of mechanical engineering and my own personal blend of magic”

“Magic?” A girl a few rows back piped up.

“Well, yes.” Yvette “Blending together magic and technology is a very new property, and Amalgatech has that new market cornered. Both methods have been used throughout history as a way of gaining control over one's environment, we're just providing the logical synthesis.”

Aisha could finally feel a bit of fresh air at the tips of her....fingers? Everything felt a bit mashed up, and an odd tingling had enveloped everything above what she could still identify as her elbow. She grunted as a new solid shape obstructed her malformed limb's path to freedom. With minimal resistance, she could feel her hand squash, then fold around the small, round obstruction before it pushed inward, momentarily sealing the pipe that she has being pushed through and severing a small piece of her.

“Oh!” Aisha called out in surprise, as the spout dangling over the vat of liquid finally extruded a small ring of pale dough, which dropped down into the suddenly bubbling fluid.
A ripple of realization passed over the audience as they realized what they were watching. The ring of dough began to plump up and darken slightly in the oil, the swirling current pushing it gradually outwards along the spiral path.

Aisha moaned from within the machine, even as her hair was painlessly pulled into the rollers. She could actually still feel the severed chunk of herself, sizzling away in the oil like a thousand tickling little tongues that made her squirm and writhe in delight. A second ring of dough plonked in after the first, doubling the sensation. She gave a small yelp as a lever mechanism in the vat flipped over the first wad of dough, immersing the raw side that had previously been exposed to the air.

Finally the curling path came to an end as she felt the first piece of herself lifted out of the oil by a small conveyor band. Release from the cooking oil felt like emerging from a warm bath and into the mellow summer air for Aisha. She cooed slightly at the feel of the smooth metal underneath her as she finished her descent, being deposited on a metal tray. More and more of her fell into the oil, only heightening her experience as the top of her head was scooped up into the churning gears.    

Yvette picked up the first freshly prepared donut, showing it off to the crowd.
“And we've begun!”

“She's donuts!” a blonde woman in the front row exclaimed. “You're turning her into food!”

“Kind of my specialty” Yvette remarked as she walked behind Aisha's prone lower half and slipped off her shoes “And trust me, she doesn't mind”

“Can...can you turn it up?” Aisha's muffled voice called out as more of her head was pulled in, to a chorus of slight chuckles.

“It feels good?” the same woman asked again. “How?”

“It feels DIVINE” Yvette sighed “And to explain to you HOW she's aware of all of it, well” The troll's tail wagged as she considered lecturing the crowd before her on the finer points of metaphysical transmutations. Nah, better make it a little more digestible. She was good at that.
“Essentially, having a piece of yourself processed into dough and cooked up in one of OUR machines isn't the same as chopping off a finger. Our ingredient isn't losing anything. Nothing is being taken away from her, it's merely being altered. And she's still connected to all of it, still aware. Her essence, her soul, whatever you want to call it, remains intact within a dozen little extensions of herself....a bakers dozen” she added with a wink.
“So she's alive?” a redheaded man  asked, not taking his eyes off of the ingredient's squirming behind.

“Well, yeah” Yvette scoffed. “She's just changing states, altering perception and shifting priorities. With humans, it's a complex mix of brain signals and breathing and blood flow to keep them functioning. All a donut has to do is be a donut. It's still her in there, things have just gotten a lot less complicated.”

She was about to continue, until a grumble of a cleared throat drew her eyes over to a nearby curtained area as two figures strode into view. The Amalgatech cheffess immediately recognized Doyle, the wolf-anthro that had done a lot of heavy lifting throughout the first day of the convention. He had an arm under the woman accompanying him, supporting her as she shuffled forward. Yvette vaguely recognized her as the girl that had accompanied her current ingredient into the exhibit area, though she was distracted by the  round, enticingly large belly that spilled out from under her ill fitting shirt like a huge, pale water balloon, studded with a pierced navel. The swollen girl belched and massaged her bloated stomach, allowing her shirt to slip further up it's round bulk, resting underneath her breasts, swollen and capped with stiff nipples that poked clean through the fabric.
“We got another one Yvette” Doyle smirked “She found one of our dairy cows and decided to fill up at the source. It's left her a little hazy.”
“So THAT'S why our milkshake machine has been on the fritz” Chef St. Cloud chuckled, taking the pale woman by the hand and leading her into the square. Therese burped again, as her shirt began to darken with twin points of moisture. The bloated girl blushed slightly as her lactation intensified, streams of milk   dripping onto the floor as she lumbered forward.
“Somebody's leaking” Yvette smiled as she pinched one of Therese's mammaries, eliciting a squeak of pleasure from the unnaturally pale girl and a few mumbled words as the cheffess brought her fingers to her mouth.
“Mmm, creamy” she smiled, a small light bulb going off in her head, prompting her to wave the wolf and his load over to a nearby table laden with cooking implements “Here, let's get you contained”
She escorted the two to a large, tub-sized bowl.
“Could you please give me your pants?” Yvette inquired to the girl as she swayed slightly “We'll never get them out from under you once you sit down”
“S-sitting down...would be nice” Therese mumbled as she undid her straining buttons and wriggled out of the much-too-tight jeans. She paused for a second, then added her panties to the discarded pile of clothes. Might as well.
She sleepily looked up at the wolf as he carefully removed her top, exposing her bloated breasts to the crowd and giggled at the cool sensation of the glass against her bare back and the sides of her huge stomach as she settled into the bowl. Her own bulk preserved some semblance of modesty, filling in whatever space wasn't occupied by her legs or upper body, as she rested her hands over her breasts, unconsciously playing with her leaking nipples.
“Here” Yvette offered the reclining nude woman what looked like a silver fire extinguisher with a hose attached “Drink this”
Therese complied once again, inserting the tip of the hose into her mouth and depressing the lever, allowing a cold, creamy fluid to fill her mouth, as frosty condensation appeared on the canister. She exhaled a jagged breath of cold air, that crystallized in a mist before her face.

“Let's leave her there for now” Yvette smiled, sauntering back to the donut machine. At least two dozen donuts had finished their journey through the oil, and were resting in neat, steaming rows along the tray, which descended on a mechanized shelf, slotting another into position. “I'm still taking questions!”

“Can I get a taste?” one of the spectators asked. He was a tall, robust fox, covered in orangey fur and wearing very little in the way of clothing, save for a...cream coloured skirt? And an ill fitting one at that. His friend, a grey, striped cat in a baggy T-shirt and no pants didn't seem to be paying attention, instead focusing on  her own breasts. The way she curiously massaged and probed at them with an inquisitiveness that bordered on unfamiliarity seemed to imply that they were fairly new additions.

“Of course!”  Yvette smiled, glad that she had hooked her first taster. “Though ungarnished donuts are a little plain. No offence” she mentioned to the ingredient as she was pulled further through the hatch, her kicking feet having left the floor. If there was enough of her head left to respond to the quip, she wasn't answering. More and more dough filled the fryer, spiralling outwards in the vat like a culinary carousel.

As Aisha continued to be converted into rows of baked goods, she found more of her perception transferring over to that side of herself. Beyond the amount of her that was being pushed through the machine or fried, she could vaguely make out the image of people looking down at her as she lay on the tray, slightly hear the murmurs of the crowd, but above all, she could taste herself. It was almost overpowering, the sensation of both being and feeling that fluffy sweetness and moist, warm freshness. She could taste her own soft, breaded exterior and the sugary, dense bulk beneath. She had enjoyed donuts before all of this, of course, but this was much more intense. She WAS the sugar, the full richness. She fulfilled it, became it. And she wanted more.

“Minnie? We have a need for a little extra sweetness!” Yvette called out behind the curtain.

“Coming Ma'am!” another female responded. She waddled into view, carrying a sizable mixing bowl in her hands, clearly full of a heavy, slightly sloshing liquid. The girl was wearing a similar outfit to Yvette's, seemingly company policy. She was handling the bowl with extreme care, trying not to spill any.

“Shouldn't have taken off the cover” Minnie mumbled after another shaky step “Shoulda-WHUP!”
The young cooks foot hit a patch of recently spilled cream and skidded out from under her. She staggered to retain balance, but the equilibrium was already lost. She instinctively brought her arms up, but only succeeded in pouring the bowlful of deep brown fluid all over herself.

“Ah” she grunted as the almost empty bowl clattered to the floor. “Oh dear”

Minnie retained the position that she had been holding, a wide stance, leaning back with her arms thrown up, still covered in what most people started to identify through smell as melted chocolate. Only a small area of her back, a few patches of her legs, a shoulder and her head, save her left ear, had escaped unscathed. The rest of her body was completely drenched.

“Make a clearing please!” Yvette called out, skipping forward and carefully dodging the already solidifying pools of chocolate around her. She circled her immobilized cook, tapping her occasionally with the tip of her wooden spoon.
“Hmm. Looks like it's pretty soaked in, Minnie” she finally declared. The troll grabbed one of her cooks arms and with a small twist and minimal effort, snapped it off at the elbow, eliciting a gasp from the crowd and a rough grunt from Minnie.

“Accidents do happen” Yvette addressed the crowd as she nonchalantly broke off a finger from the severed arm and popped it in her mouth. Minnie gave a barely audible moan behind her “And like any good kitchen, often times we just need to adapt and find the best way to use the components we are presented. Mmmf” She popped a thumb into her mouth. “You taste absolutely divine, by the way”

“Thanks” Minnie panted, still recovering from the sensation of being partially devoured. As an Amalgatech-licensed cook, she was very familiar with the unique methods and semi-volunteer “Ingredients” that were necessary for every recipe. She had seen plenty of people give themselves over to the kitchen, watched them squirm as animacy was replaced with flavour. She remembered the grunts and sensual moans that soon-to-be food products gave off as their bodies collapsed into sugary dough, melted into flavoured syrup or otherwise surrendered into a form that better accommodated their chef's notorious sweet-tooth. But she had never felt the sensation herself. Never experienced the serene immobility of being solid food. Or the warm intimacy of being eaten. She felt her fingers melt away and dissolve in Yvette's mouth and already knew she wanted it to continue.

“Whoops” Yvettte chuckled as she realized she had deprived her cook of all five fingers. “Sorry about that. I'm a notorious snacker”
She turned to the frozen woman and wrapped her arms around her midsection, strain entering her voice as she attempted to uproot the partial statue from the chocolate covered floor.
“As you can all see, my delicious Minnie has been mostly transmuted into chocolate by the compound she has been coated with. Our instant chocolate formula is fast acting and-”
KRACK
Yvette suddenly stumbled backwards, clutching the upper half of Minnies body. Minnie yelped at the sudden separation from her legs, which remained stuck to the floor as solid chocolate. Yvette was able to direct her controlled topple over to a nearby steel table, where she finally dropped Minnie. She rocked where she had fallen, trying to catch her breath, but failing, as her torso was almost pure chocolate.
“Well, we can get back to that” Yvette said, glancing back at the frozen legs. “Where was I? Oh Yes” She casually snapped off Minnie's other arm, eliciting another gasp from all other parties
“The liquid chocolate bonds almost instantaneously to skin on contact, and rewrites the subjects body into delicious solid confectionary”
She tossed the arm into a sizable bowl attached to a hotplate, snapping off another thumb for herself.
“Exact cocoa percentage, the darkness of the chocolate and other factors, are determined by the subject. And I know for a fact that Minnie has always been sweet as can be”
“Be sure to share some of me with the rest of the group Ma'am!” Minnie called from her resting place, having been reduced to a rocking torso, a nub of a left arm, and a head.
“This is going to be the last time I tell you this Minnie, but please, call me Yvette” Chef St. Cloud sighed as she picked up Minnie's body and placed it in the bowl alongside her arm. She drew her wooden spoon out and tapped her lips with it.
“Never had to do this spell through chocolate before” She mused before rapping Minnie with the spoon, the spark of her favourite defabrication charm going to work. She then grabbed her with both hands and wrenched, finally separating the remains of the chocolate cooks heavily stained clothing from her body in a shower of brown flakes.
“Whew! Don't want that getting mixed in!” Yvette grabbed the bowl containing the last of the liquid chocolate from the floor, stirring it with her spoon. “Now, for the finishing touch.”
As she reapproached Minnie, her voice dropped to an intimate level.
“Ready for a future in cocoa?” she asked.
“I worked in your kitchen for two years” Minnie replied as Yvette painted the last of her untouched shoulder with chocolate. “Something like this was bound to happen eventually. Call me crazy, but in all my time, I didn't see a lot of long-term employees that were entirely human”
“I'm glad that I got to be here for your big change” Yvette smiled as she painted Minnie's neck and hair, leaving only her face untouched.
“Glad it was you” Minnie mumbled “Keep eating me if you like....Can't wait to be a part of you”
Yvette gave Minnie one last kiss on the forehead before sealing her away underneath a layer of chocolate forever. The nude, chocolate statue lay there in fragments in the bowl alongside the rest of herself, unmoving, with a serene look on her face. Yvette regarded her fondly for a second before she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Doyle, holding both of Minnie's legs that he had managed to finally unstick from the floor. His tail wagged as he tossed both into the bowl and Yvette cranked a knob on the hotplate underneath.
“Looking forward to getting a taste” He smiled. “Glad I'm still human enough to enjoy chocolate”

Yvette wandered back to the centre of the room, admiring her handiwork. Only the wiggling feet of the first girl were still visible, the rest lost in the churning of the donut machine. The bubbling oil was filled with floating rings of cooking pastries, and the steaming trays were just about to finish their third dozen. The smell was absolutely transcendent.
Behind her, the bowl had started to heat up and Minnie's form had started to lose cohesion, flowing together and dripping in the temperature. A small pool of brown goo at the bottom of the bowl grew steadily larger as the various limbs and their body sank down into it.

Yvette remembered the third member of the buffet and returned to Therese, who had done quite a lot of growing in the interim. Her massive, white belly had risen over the rim of the large glass tureen that she occupied, dwarfing even her colossal breasts, which were equally spherical and uniformly white in colour. The massive, pale girl's legs had vanished underneath her bloated stomach, and her arms were similarly absent, either hidden under her breasts or just gone. The top of her head was still barely visible, her eyes dolefully scanning the room as she fought to keep them open.
“How are we doing?” Yvette asked, her tail stirring in delight again. She quietly reached over the horizon of the globular woman's belly and removed her navel piercing. The piece of metal passed through her unyielding flesh and lifted free, taking a small bit of Therese with it.
“A bit....chilly” Therese mumbled, still stuck halfway between a carbo-coma and the effects of drinking a tall glass of milk before bed. “Good kinda chilly though...I taste....Ooh, Vanilla.”
“You did seem a bit vanilla” The blonde troll smirked as she licked the small hunk of her subject off of her jewellery.
“Any more? Finished that...tank” Therese's words started to fade as her head sank out of sight. “Mmm...cool”
She felt...inert, and at peace. A very comforting chill had wrapped around her entire body, even though she could still feel little tendrils of heat licking at the huge, sensitive surface of her belly and the orbs of her breasts. A rich, creamy cool flavour of vanilla and dairy had flooded not just her mouth, but her entire being as well, permeating her alongside that wonderful cold and teasing her like the quiet ecstasy of an arousing thought in bed that made her tingle while between the covers. She just wanted to wrap herself up in it and have a long, lovely nap.
Finally, the girl's head sank out of sight, leaving only her bloated assets, resembling three, very large scoops of vanilla ice cream.

A small ding sounded out from the donut machine, signalling that it's job was done as the last, steaming and ever so slightly wriggling pastry slid out to join the rest of the 13 dozen.

“And now for the last touch” Yvette chimed, nodding at Lucius, who (carefully) picked up the hefty melting bowl and lumbered up next to her. The cheffess drew her spoon once more and stirred up the liquid chocolate, earning a barely audible moan from the contents as she drew her dripping utensil out and towards the  rows of donuts. A few strokes left the first dozen coated in a layer of glistening chocolate, and then the dozen after that. After the entire batch had been properly glazed, Yvette turned back towards the massive bowl of ice cream, stirring up the chocolate and pouring it over top of the feminine scoops, dripping over their gravid curvature and settling in the pits and valleys created by the three massive spheres.
The effect this had on the two foodstuffs was radically different. The ice-cream's sleepy, shivering euphoria  was interrupted by the fresh sensation of someone sliding into bed with her. They were warm and enveloping, wrapping her up and seeping into her. Her own cold, mellow vanilla taste blended with the rich hotness of chocolate that held her like a comforting embrace as they both drifted back into the haze of flavour together.
The donuts on the other hand, felt a much more aggressive presence grab and soak in to her, like a furtive lover gripping at her body and pushing a wet tongue into her mouth. The chocolate was absolutely perfect, and obviously relishing the part that she was playing in elevating the experience of flavour. The donuts could taste herself on the chocolate, and vice-versa, the two blending and collaborating until they began to wonder where one ended and the other began. They were simply chocolate glazed donuts now, a single entity.

“NOW you can have a taste” Yvette smiled.

The skirt wearing fox gingerly picked up the nearest pastry available to him and turned it over in his hands, seemingly inspecting it for imperfections, or possibly a remnant of the primary ingredient, like a fingernail or tooth. Seemingly satisfied, he shrugged and bit in.

The donut's world exploded. She could feel even this minuscule portion of herself being handled, devoured, EATEN. The sensation of a wet, warm tongue sliding across her sweet form was better than a thousand lovers orally playing at her long-forgotten nether regions. This was so much better than carnal pleasure, this was CULINARY pleasure. Her soft body yielded to the pressure of her devourer's fingers as he chewed and swallowed. She could sense herself, just a wad of pure sensation, slide down his throat and diffuse itself into his body. And the rest of her couldn't wait to follow.

The fox was already licking his fingers when the female cat by his side spoke up still clutching her own breasts.
“Um-” she paused, seemingly surprised by the tone of her own voice “What happens to her...it...them? Are we really eating people?”

“You're eating donuts” Yvette answered. She selected one from the row and took a sizable bite, grunting in delight and speaking through a mouth of food.
“Mrrf...oh. The essence of the main..mm..Ingredient” She swallowed. “Is still very much in there, even after every last crumb is gone. Not eating them in this state would just be a cruelty.” The portly cook went in for another large bite.
“Eating an ingredient that has given themselves to you is the most intimate thing you can ever do. They become a part of of, they add themselves to you, become you.” She smiled. “You'd need a to take a trip through the mixer yourself to understand, but it's better than sex”

The fox was already reaching for another, cramming it into his muzzle “S'Tempting” he mumbled between bites.

The crowd began to move forward, selecting donuts from the trays and one or two particularly adventurous conventioneers engaging Yvette's fellow cooks in excited speculation and proposals. She passed by one blushing couple that mentioned their shared affinity for cinnamon rolls and approached the massive Sundae. Per her brief instructions, Doyle was shepherding people around it until the spoons arrived. No need to make a mess after all, and there was no worry about it melting in the interim. Even the temperature-sensitive dishes in her kitchen rarely spoiled or grew stale. Not while there was still a vibrant life within the food.
Something about the huge frozen desert still seemed off to her though. It was impressive, but still rather plain. If only she could make one, final addition....
“I used to have ice-cream sundaes like that when I was a kid” a voice behind the troll made her turn. A slim, pale skinned girl behind her was looking at the confection with an entranced look on her face.
“Smaller of course, but....” She trailed off “I just came from D'helvanni's lecture and I was thinking...” A lustful spark of inspiration entered her eye “I think I could help....that a cherry on top would make it just perfect”

Yvette wrapped a hand around the girl's waist and pulled her close “I'm sure we can whip something up” she smirked.

______________________________

Nearby, a young man who had just arrived noticed the glint of something golden on the ground, picking it up and turning it over in his hands.
“Anybody lose a bracelet?”